Memories In Appalachia

Every morning at close to four She made the coffee, percolated Poured it into cups with saucers And they each would have a cup Pouring the potent black liquid Into the saucers before drinking The cooling solution from them This was only one more glimpse Into the heart of Appalachian living A day by day extravaganza of insights Carried down from the Irish ancestors Who’d come to this land in America Realizing it reminded them of the Wonders that were once their Ireland As the coffee moved from the percolator To a Mr. Coffee that sat on the sink The children began to drink from their cups But Granny and Pa still used their saucers A reminder of all that had come before And the things that were past that would Forever remain ingrained in their hearts